Rescue the White Knight
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Set just after the end of Weiss Kreuz Gluhen. Youji finds Aya/Ran bleeding and unconscious beside the mailbox. From there, he is joined by the others, and determined to save the man Mamoru calls his White Knight. But can Youji bear the reminders of his past, and possible return of his memory? Can they truly save Aya?
1. Chapter 1: Chance Encounter

**Rescue the White Knight**

**Summary:** Youji finds Aya unconscious from the stab wound inflicted at the end of Gluhen, and takes him home. It's a surprise for him, to find out that Aya is the man who saved his life, over a year ago. Even more surprising when Ken and Mamoru/Omi show up, to look in on their wounded comrade. Working together, with Aya's sister and long ago lover, the former White Cross members work to save Aya's soul from the darkness. But the redemption of such a tortured soul is no easy task, and there are more fates at risk than Aya/Ran Fujimiya's. More questions to be answered. Can Youji withstand the risk of remembering, or bear the weight that once broke him and turned him against his friends? Can Ran truly be saved? Could it be that Ran's salvation is Mamoru's as well?

**Chapter ****One: ****Chance ****Encounter**

It was cold, and the snow that kept trying to drip down his collar was unpleasant. Youji hunched his shoulders up, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his throat.

He was headed home for the weekend, and he was looking forward to curling up in his apartment with his wife, Asuka. The thought of a day of rest, in her loving arms, helping her in the kitchen and perhaps watching a little TV with hot tea or cocoa sounded heavenly to him. He paused, glancing at the shops. Asuka was working long shifts for the next couple of days. She'd told him he didn't need to bring anything home for dinner, that she'd already set something aside in the fridge that could be easily reheated, but he found himself wondering if he should buy a nice little dessert or something, to show his appreciation. Perhaps something he could cook, as a treat for his loving spouse.

A small smile curved over his lips. He'd barely known her a year. In fact, he'd barely known anything for a year. His life before waking in the hospital bed with her at his side was a blank slate. But still...he was content. Despite hazy dreams that sometimes made him uneasy, he was happy. He enjoyed his job, as a junior assistant at one of the business firms downtown. He liked the house he shared with his wife. He enjoyed mundane little tasks, including gardening oddly enough, growing little plants in window pots for his wife, or to give to neighbors. He sometimes wondered if he'd been a gardener, or something of that nature, earlier in his life.

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye, breaking his train of thought. He stopped.

The mailbox. There was a man curled up next to the mailbox, leaning against it. From the way the snow was coating his hair and coat, he'd been there a while. And he didn't appear to be moving, curled into a tight crouch against the mailbox frame.

Curious, Youji moved closer. His first thought was that the man was a street bum or a homeless man who had collapsed from hunger or cold. But the gloves and the jacket looked too clean and new to be those of a homeless alley drifter, unless he'd happened to get them from a charity bin or stolen them. His hair, what could be seen of it under the snow fall, was a dark auburn color, neatly trimmed. His face was thin, but lacked the gauntness of a man who was starving. He was rather pale, but then, his lips were nearly blue with cold, and that was likely most of it.

Youji stepped another pace forward. "Sir?" He laid one hand against the man's throat.

At his touch, the man groaned, stirring slightly. Then he groaned again, clinching tighter around his waist.

"Sir? Are you ill? Injured?" Youji set his briefcase down and leaned forward, crouching over the man. "Sir, please answer me." He took the man's shoulders and pushed slightly, trying to get the man to sit up and look him in the face. "Can you tell me your name?"

He pushed the man upright, then gasped. Straightened, he could see what the coat and the arms tucked about the man's middle had been hiding.

The snow beneath him, the inside of the jacket, and his gloves were stained the deep crimson of blood. Youji leaned forward, gasping again as he saw the wound in the man's abdomen, partially covered by his arm, bleeding sluggishly over his wrist.

He didn't stop to think. Asuka always put a handkerchief in his inner pocket. He pulled it out, then peeled the man's arm away from his middle. The man groaned in pain and tried to push him away. Even with massive blood loss, he was stronger than Youji would have expected.

"Hold still. I'm trying to tend your wound." He pushed the man back, and the auburn-haired figure swayed and collapsed to lean back against the mailbox with a gasp.

The man was wearing a shirt and vest. There was a narrow tear in the fabric on his left side, and the edges were soaked with the man's blood.

Youji slapped his handkerchief to the wound, applying pressure as Asuka had taught him. With one hand he began working his tie loose to slip over his head. The wound needed to be bound, but it was small enough that the tie would make an adequate tourniquet until he could get the man to a hospital.

He got the tie loose, undid the knot. His fingers were going numb from the cold, but he couldn't stop. He caught one end of the tie in the hand pressing on the wound, then slipped the other inside the man's coat and behind his back.

There was a hard, thin object in the middle of the man's back. Youji froze. It felt like a knife sheath, and a long one at that.

He frowned. _Why would he be carrying a knife?_ Something about it struck a chord in his mind. Then he shook the thought away. It wasn't his business, and right now staunching the bleeding was his biggest priority.

He slipped the tie around, then switched hands and pulled it the rest of the way forward. His handkerchief was turning slowly crimson. He set his teeth, then made a quick knot and yanked it tight against the wound.

The man groaned, body arching slightly to escape him. One gloved hand caught at his wrist, holding him. Then the man groaned again, and his eyes opened, hazy with pain and hypothermia.

Youji spoke quickly. "Sir? Sir? Can you tell me your name?"

The man blinked at him, then his eyes widened. "Youji?" His voice was low and rough, and in his eyes was an expression of shocked disbelief, as if he'd been punched. "Youji? Why are you...?" is voice trailed off.

Youji swallowed, to surprised to say anything for a moment. Then he recovered. "Sir, I need to take you to a hospital. Can you tell me your name?"

Dark eyes searched his for a moment, looking for something, though he couldn't guess what. Then the man relaxed slightly, hand dropping away as he fell against the mailbox.

Youji twisted his wrist to keep the knot tight, then shook the man slightly. "Sir, I need to know your name."

The eyes cracked open again, glazed with shock. "Fuji...miya...Aya." Then he slumped backward, eyes closing as he went completely limp and unconscious.

Youji grimaced, then cinched the knot tighter, his own stomach tightening with unease when the injured man failed to even groan. Obviously, the man was slipping into shock. He draped his coat over the man, to provide a little more warmth, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the hospital.

It took him a moment or two to pinpoint his exact address, but within two minutes, he had given out the information, and been told an ambulance was on the way. He pocketed the phone, then settled down beside the wounded figure, studying the pale face.

_Fujimiya Aya...why does that name sound familiar? He's not an associate from work. Maybe I met him at the hospital? But then...why does he seem to know me? Is he...someone from my past?_

**_Author's Note: _**_And so it begins...__  
_


	2. Chapter 2: Good Samaritan

**Chapter ****Two: ****Good ****Samaritan**

The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later. Paramedics climbed out with a stretcher, looked the unconscious man over, stabilized the tourniquet, and loaded him up. One medic stopped to look at Youji, shivering in his damp shirt, and gestured him up as well. "Come on sir. We need to check you for hypothermia."

"I..." Youji started to defer, but the medic shook his head.

"Better safe than sorry sir. Besides...you're Asuka's husband. She'd be upset if we left you here and didn't bring you in, especially the way you're shivering." The medic gestured for him to take a seat.

That much was true. Youji nodded. "Thank you." He grabbed his briefcase with numb fingers, then levered himself up into the waiting ambulance.

Inside, the paramedics draped a blanket over him and directed him to a seat to one side. The one who'd put him in the van handed him a warming pack, wrapped in a towel, which he accepted gratefully. He'd have rather had some tea, or coffee, but it was far better than nothing. He cradled it in his lap, watching as the medics worked on their patient.

He'd already told them what to expect, and wasn't surprised when they simply ripped the shirt down the middle. One man kept the bandage, makeshift as it was, in place, while the other undid the man's belt and pulled everything off over his back to set to one side, leaving the man stripped to the waist. Then they got to work.

A gauze pad was substituted for his handkerchief, and a bandage for his tie. One man took his vital signs and frowned, murmuring about a low pulse, low temperature, low respiration. One man took a blood sample for analysis, another hooked up an IV line to start getting plasma and saline into his system, and an oxygen mask was bound to his face. Then a thermal blanket was draped over him, to combat the hypothermia.

Youji studied the man...Aya, as the paramedics worked. Fair skinned, but he'd almost expected that, with the color of the man's hair. His body was lean, muscles toned with almost no fat on him. Someone who worked out then, kept extremely fit. His face was...odd. He didn't look as if he should be that old, no older than Youji himself, but there were lines around the mouth and creasing the brow that suggested he was either older than he seemed, or had endured some incredible hardships.

Youji frowned, remembering the way Aya had spoken to him. _He __recognized __me. __But __how? __And __why? __And __how __did __he __wind __up __there, __and __injured __like __that? __It __doesn't __look __like __the __kind __of __injury __you'd __get __accidentally. __And __why __didn't __he __call __a __hospital, __or __go __to __a __medical __facility? __He __must __have __known __he __was __hurt. __Did __he __not __think __it __was __serious? __Or __was __he __trying __to __get __somewhere, __and __simply __collapsed __before __he __made __it?_

He frowned. He didn't think there was a hospital any closer than the one Asuka worked at. But perhaps Aya had been trying to reach a friend who could help him. A private practitioner. There were enough of those around, and Aya did look as if he could afford one.

Another thought crossed his mind. _Why __do __I __keep __thinking __of __him __as __Aya? __I __hardly __know __him, __so __why __does __it __seem __wrong __to __call __him __Fujimiya-san? __Or __even __Fujimiya __or __Aya-san? __Why __is __it, __that __I __feel __like __I __should __be __calling __him __informally?_

He considered the thought a moment, then shook it away. There were no answers for him, and with the man so badly wounded, it wasn't as if he was going to be well enough to answer any of them.

The jolting stop of the ambulance at the emergency entrance jarred him out of his thoughts. He pulled himself upright and grabbed his briefcase. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and gathered his and Aya Fujimiya's coat together, along with the torn clothing that had been stripped off the man. He didn't mind holding the man's things for him, and anyway, he wanted to check and see if Aya had a cell phone. If he did, he would try to access it, see if there was a friend or family member that he could call to apprise of the man's condition.

He hopped out of the ambulance and stepped back, out of the path of the stretcher. He watched in concern as the paramedics carefully lifted the wounded man out of the ambulance and onto the pavement. There was a small groan as the wheels touched the pavement, but other than that, Aya didn't stir, his face appearing almost as white as the snow drifting around them. One of the ER doctors was already waiting, sizing up the patient, barking orders, while one of the ever present nurses took the blood sample up for testing, so they could match the type and start him on the necessary transfusions.

"Youji?" The familiar voice startled him out of his concentration. He'd been so busy watching the medical team swarm around Aya, he hadn't heard his wife come up beside him. "I heard you'd called in a medical emergency..."

"Ah. Sorry if I worried you." He grimaced sheepishly. "I found a man collapsed by a mailbox on my way home, bleeding from some sort of wound to his stomach. I called an ambulance for him. They gave me a ride in because I gave him my coat, and I was cold." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine now. Just worried about him." He gestured to where the team of medics was wheeling the stretcher inside, heading for the ER, and probably an Operating Room.

Asuka followed his gestured, and stiffened. Immediately, Youji put an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"That man..." She frowned, her eyes clouded with concern. "That dark red hair and that face...he looks like the man who brought you to us. The man I spoke to about your care."

Youji blinked. "Are you sure?"

"I think so. I'd need to get a closer look."She seemed to consider a moment, then stepped forward, following the stretcher.

Inside, the doctor wheeled Aya into an operating room. The bandage was checked, monitoring wires attached to measure heart-rate, breathing, blood pressure and brain waves. Youji stood watching for a long moment, then turned to look at his wife. "Is that really...?"

She nodded. "I'm sure of it. I remember that face. His eyes were so sad." A small, melancholy smile touched her mouth. "He was so worried about you. It was odd though. When I called and told him you'd lost your memory, I asked him if he would come see you, to see if he could help you remember. And I remember what he said to me." She pursed her lips. "He said 'it's better if he does not remember me. Better that I vanish into the shadows. Let him be, and have the life he truly desires, free from the darkness.' And he hung up right after that and never answered the phone again, so I never learned what he meant by that."

Youji frowned. "He does seem familiar. I feel like...like I might have known him, from before." He turned his head to gaze at the man, surrounded by doctors as the emergency team worked on him."Did he tell you anything else?"

Asuka shook her head. "Only that you'd been caught in an accidental explosion, and been hit in the head by falling masonry. He wouldn't tell me the details. Just that you were injured, and he took off your shirt to see if there were any serious injuries underneath it, then wrapped you in your jacket to bring you in. And he told me your first name. But that's it."

"I see." Youji swallowed, staring at the still figure. His head was pounding with a thousand questions. _Where __was __I __when __I __was __injured? __What __was __I __doing __when __I __got __hurt? __Was __he __there, __or __just __passing __by? __Did __we __work __together, __or __were __we __strangers __who __happened __to __run __into __each __other? __How __well __did __he __know __me, __that __he __called __me __by __my __first __name?_

There were no answers available. He sighed, then looked down at the coats in his arm.

Asuka followed his gaze. "Oh...those look soaked. Here I can hang them to dry."

Youji nodded and handed her his. "Hold on a moment." He flipped Aya's jacket open.

A short dagger thudded to the ground. Youji picked it up, frowning. It was a large knife to be carrying for self-defense. Then again, considering how he'd found the man, he wasn't sure it was all that unreasonable. He wondered why Aya hadn't used it when he was injured, given that it looked as if he'd been stabbed. Although, perhaps it had been some sort of weird accident. He shook his head, then set it to one side.

A more thorough search revealed a wallet, a set of keys, and a phone in the inner pockets. A good protection against thieves and pickpockets. He flipped through the wallet, noting a reasonable sum of money, and an ID. The face matched Aya's, as did the name. He was interested to note that Aya was actually several years younger than he was. He seemed so much older, but the man was barely into his thirties.

He pocketed the wallet and keys to give Aya when he woke, then handed the wet coats to his wife. She took them away. After a moment of consideration, he opened his briefcase. There was just enough room inside for the knife, keys and wallet, so he set them inside and shut it again. That left him with just the phone.

He clicked it open. There was a locking code on it, but the code was disabled. Which made sense, as it was irritating to have to juggle a lock code on your phone when trying to answer a call. And he doubted Aya had expected to get injured, however it had happened, when he left his residence. Wherever it was. He hadn't recognized the address on the license.

He found the message and call log and frowned. There were several numbers, some of them repeated, but none of them had names. It was as if the man refused to put contact names in, or as if everyone who called him was a stranger. And the first several messages he reviewed were...impersonal. Far more so than he considered normal.

Even when he was chatting with his business associates and his boss, there was some sort of personality to the messages. Little greetings. Things like 'give your wife my best'. Questions. But these...

The first several messages he read were so terse they were barely even worthy of the name. Names, dates...numbers that he thought might be bank accounts, and a couple he knew were certainly payment amounts, though the numbers made his eyes widen. Terse messages, most consisting of some form of 'I have a job for you, can you do it?', which Aya had apparently responded to with equally brief replies, usually 'yes' or 'I need details'. Once there was a slightly longer refusal and apology. Apparently, he received more information on alternate sources, such as a computer or another phone, perhaps his home phone.

He wondered what job Aya had, that resulted in such tense conversations. It was possible the man was a consultant, or a government operative. Still...who was he supposed to call? There were no names, and a quick search revealed his contact list was, again, all numbers, no names.

Finally, more than two dozen messages in, he found an entry that was different. Still nameless, but the tone of this message wasn't so impersonal. Short, but much gentler, with warmth in it.

'Aya. I won't ask you to call me. I know you won't. I understand. And I won't call on you again. But...please be safe. Take care of yourself, my friend.' It was a text message, unsigned, a clear indicator that Aya most likely knew the sender, and probably quite well.

That was the most positive, personal message he'd found so far. He considered a moment, feeling mildly guilty for invading the man's privacy to this degree, then tapped the icon to call the number listed with the message.

The phone rang once, then twice. Then a click sounded and a voice. "Ran?"

It was a young man's voice, from the sound, though not a boy's. And even over the line, Youji could hear the breathless, hopeful sound to it. He swallowed hard. He wondered if he'd gotten a wrong number though. Who was Ran?

"Aya?" There was a note of confusion, and hurt, in that voice now.

Youji swallowed again, then spoke, trying to keep his voice as even and calm as possible. "I'm sorry. I'm not Aya. My name is Itou Youji."

A brief pause, and when the other man spoke, the voice was much cooler, more professional. "I see. Why are you calling me from Fujimiya's cell phone?" His voice now held all the tones of a high level business executive.

Youji took a deep breath. "I found Fujimiya-san beside a mailbox this evening. He was severely hurt, and I brought him to a hospital. He's in treatment now, and I don't know his condition. I apologize for disturbing you and calling you unexpectedly, but your number was in his message history, and your message to him...it sounded as if you might be friends with Fujimiya-san. I'm sorry if I made an incorrect assumption."

"Well, it would be a more correct assumption to say we were close associates, long ago. However...I have always considered him to be my friend." The voice was thoughtful, heavy and slightly sad. "Though I do not know if Aya thinks of me that way, or if he ever did. However...thank you for calling, Itou-san. If it isn't too much trouble, could you tell me what hospital you took him to?"

"It's no trouble." Youji gave him the name of the hospital. "Do you need me to wait for you, or tell the doctors to expect you?"

"That isn't necessary." The refusal was polite, but firm. "I will take care of everything."

"Very well." Youji shifted. He was tired, and beginning to feel it. "I don't work at the hospital, but when you get here, please ask for my wife, Itou Asuka. She will probably be tending to Fujimiya-san. I will make sure she has his phone and other belongings, if you wish to collect them for him."

A thin, distant chuckle echoed over the line. "I doubt Aya would want me to collect his belongings. But thank you. I will most certainly look up Itou-san when I arrive." Something made a noise in the background, then the man spoke again. "My apologies, Itou-san, but I have something I must attend to. I will make plans to visit Fujimiya-san tomorrow." A momentary silence occurred. "Thank you, Itou-san. However Aya feels about me, I am glad that I know what has happened to him."

"You're welcome." There wasn't much more to say to that, and the line went dead a second later. Youji considered a moment, then closed the phone with a snap, frowning. He'd never even gotten the man's name. It struck him as slightly rude that the other had never returned his introduction. Then again, the man obviously hadn't expected a call from the phone he now held, and he certainly couldn't have expected someone he didn't know to be calling him from the cell phone of someone he clearly knew and cared for. And given the way Aya had left all names off of his cell phone, perhaps there was a reason to be cautious that he had no knowledge of.

He sighed, then shook the thoughts firmly to the back of his mind and left to find Asuka.

_**Author's Note: **Things are moving on. What do you think about what's happened? And who did Youji call?_


	3. Chapter 3: Familiar Strangers

**Chapter****Three:****Familiar****Strangers**

Youji found Asuka working one of the wards. She took the cell phone from him, and told him that Aya had just been moved to a critical care room. Youji nodded. He offered to bring her some dinner, but she declined, then sent him home to rest. He went, heated and ate the meal she'd left for him in the fridge, then settled down to sleep.

He couldn't stop thinking about Aya. Why had the man he'd spoken to originally called him Ran? Why did Aya know him, and why did he feel as if he should know the other man? What had their relationship been, that they spoke to each other informally, that Aya had saved his life just over a year ago? What had Aya meant in his last words to Asuka?

Youji sighed. It was hard to sleep, thinking of all these things. And yet, there were no answers. He couldn't remember anything, and trying made his head ache. Nonetheless, he remained awake for several hours, and it was only when Asuka came home, after midnight, that he finally managed to fall into an uneasy slumber.

The next day was his day off. Youji fixed a late breakfast for himself and Asuka, then did some of the household work that needed to be done. Then, after some consideration, he changed and made his way to the hospital.

He wanted to see Aya Fujimiya again. The half-formed impressions the man gave him just wouldn't go away. He was curious. He was also worried. The wound hadn't looked that big, but the man had lost a lot of blood, and he'd probably been out in the cold for some time. The thought that Aya might be critically injured or ill made him feel...worried, but also protective, more so than their brief encounter truly warranted. He sighed, then walked inside the building, intent on asking one of the nurses the way to Aya's room.

Aya was in the intensive care unit of the hospital. He found Asuka working the floor, and got an update from her. The wound, apparently a stab wound, had nicked a blood vessel, and his stomach and intestines. He'd lost a lot of blood, and suffered severe hypothermia. The doctors had repaired the injury and treated him, but he was still unconscious with no signs of waking, and they were watching carefully for any signs of infection, or worse, pneumonia.

Youji thanked her for the information, kissed her on the cheek, then went down the hall she had indicated. He found the correct room, pausing as he stared at the name written on the temporary door plate. He hadn't thought that Aya would have a private room, and he wondered who had set it up. He hadn't, and he didn't think Asuka would have, even if they'd had the money for such a thing. He wondered if the man he'd spoken to the night before had arranged something. He took a deep breath, then opened the door.

Aya lay in the hospital bed, IV bag dripping into his arm, heart-rate and breathing monitors beeping softly. His face had a tinge of color in the cheeks, though he was still rather pale. There was something about seeing him in such poor condition that made Youji feel sad somehow, but it wasn't what stopped him from entering.

A young man stood beside the bed. He didn't look any older than early twenties, with medium brown hair and brown eyes. The business suit he wore was flawlessly tailored, showing a slender build with strong shoulders. Youji's eyes picked out the subtle cut and sheen of the fabric, marking the suit as being high quality, better quality even than he'd seen his boss wear. This was the kind of suit you'd expect for a corporate CEO, or a very old and powerful family.

At Youji's entrance, the young man looked up. Youji flushed. "My apologies for intruding."

A small smile crossed the younger man's face. "No need to apologize to me. I was just thinking about random things. Please, join me."

Youji nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You know him?"

"Of course I do, Itou-san." Youji blinked, startled, and the young man smiled again. "I recognized your voice from the phone last night."

"I see." Youji swallowed. He certainly hadn't recognized the young man's voice. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you."

"It's all right." The young man extended one hand to shake. "Takatori Mamoru. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Youji stiffened in surprise. Takatori...the name of one of the most important and wealthy families in the country. Some said, _the_ most important family. He was stunned and rather embarrassed that he hadn't recognized the man's face when he'd walked in. Everyone knew who Takatori Mamoru was. The young heir to the Takatori business empire, a 20-something man who had taken over the business from his father and uncle in his late teens. He was already something of a legend in the business world.

Youji hurried to bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Takatori-sama. My apologies for not recognizing you." The formal greeting felt strange on his tongue, as if some part of him wanted to call the young man in front of him by another name, another title.

The young man laughed. "Please, no formalities, Itou-san. In fact, I'd prefer that you call me Mamoru. If you will permit me to call you Youji?"

"Of course." Youji straightened. "I'm honored, Mamoru-san."

A small, sad smile creased one corner of the young man's mouth. "It sounds strange, hearing you address me like that."

Youji blinked at him. Then a small thought surfaced in his head. He considered it a moment, then spoke slowly. "I...forgive me if I offend, or ask too personal a question but...you know Mr. Fujimiya."

Mamoru nodded. "I know Aya very well." His voice was sad, matching the expression in his eyes. "I've known him for a long time."

"Then...perhaps...I was wondering...do you know if I knew him?" He saw the younger man start, looking at him with sharp eyes, and hastened to explain himself. "I...just over a year ago, I was injured in an accident. My wife was working here as a nurse, and she told me that Fujimiya-san brought me here and paid for me to be taken care of. I...I don't remember anything before waking up in the hospital and having her tell me my name. But...I feel like I should know him. And the fact that he cared for me...it makes me think we might have been friends, or colleagues, before I was injured. I was wondering if you might know if that was true." He flushed with embarrassment, having to explain himself.

To his surprise, the young man chuckled softly. "Just like Aya, to try and make sure everyone achieved their wish. Even such an impossible one." He reached out and touched the fringe of messy auburn hair. "Really...did you have to make it so hard on yourself? Why must you be the only one...?" he sighed and let the thought die away.

Youji shifted his weight uncertainly. "I'm sorry."

Mamoru blinked, then glanced at him apologetically. "My apologies, Youji. I was just...thinking of some things." He shook his head. "To answer your question...yes, you and Aya did know each other. You worked together for many years."

"We did?" Youji looked at the man. "Were we...friends?"

"Something like that. You were close, but you argued a lot." Mamoru laughed. "I used to have such fun watching you. And at the same time, it was painful to watch you fight each other."

"I...did we work together?" Youji felt a little off-balance. He had worked with the Takatori family?

Mamoru laughed, that low ironic sounding chuckle again. "In a way." He sighed, his eyes still locked on the still face of the man in the hospital bed. "I was...my father and my uncle were very competitive, and my family has many enemies. Because of that, my father decided to hire a group of individuals to raise me, to teach me and protect me until I was old enough to take over my responsibilities. You and Aya were part of that group." The sad smile found his face again, making him look young and vulnerable. "You were always kind to me, and I respected both of you, but it was Aya...I loved him. His good opinion meant everything to me. I knew...he didn't much like my uncle, and I was afraid he would hate me, but he was always kind. When I was hurt, he would come to help me. When I was lost, he would find me. When I was frightened, he would support me and give me courage. He would step in front of a bullet for me. But...what I loved most about him was that...it wasn't just me. Aya was a rock for everyone." He shook his head, as if to clear it. "My apologies. You were asking about Aya's relationship to you, and mine."

"It's fine." Youji looked down at the unconscious man. "He...supported everyone? Did I...was I a good associate of his?"

"You were good to him. Aya liked having someone older to talk with sometimes. You knew more about certain things than he did, especially in the beginning. I think...your personalities supported each other, made up for each others weak points when you worked together. You gave him perspective, sometimes, and you made a good team."

Youji nodded, looking back down into the pale face. He couldn't imagine being a mentor to this man. Even unconscious and wounded, there was something about the face that spoke of strength. Really, he couldn't imagine Aya needing a mentor at all. But then, he had the faint feeling that, had he not found the man bleeding and nearly frozen to death beside a mailbox, he wouldn't have expected this situation either.

Another thought occurred to him. "I...the accident he saved me from...do you know what happened?" He saw the shuttered expression that crossed Mamoru's face and flushed. "If it's all right for me to ask...I apologize if I overstepped."

"No, you didn't." The young man waved away his apology. "It's only natural you'd want to know about something like that. Especially in your circumstances. It's just that I don't like remembering." He sighed. "That was...it was one of the first projects I took over on my own, without my father's supervision. It was a very ambitious project, really, and I knew I might be pushing it too far. But...I wanted to succeed, so I asked you and Aya, and some other friends of mine, to help me with the work. But...there was an explosion, caused by carelessness on my part. Aya managed to salvage the most critical components of the project, and to get you and a number of others to safety. But...I've always felt rather guilty for getting everyone into that situation."

He sighed again. "After that, Aya left the service of my family, and I let him. He was upset, because some people he was close to got killed in the incident, while he was trying to do damage control. I knew that, so I let him go."

"I see." The explanation felt...off, somehow, but Youji decided to leave it alone. "And me?"

"Aya saved you from a collapsing room. But he couldn't save your friend who was with you. He told me he took you to a hospital, and that you'd survived but been badly injured and forgotten a great deal. He suggested I leave you alone, let you make your own way." Mamoru made a face. "You'd mentioned before that you were considering resigning, so I thought Aya's suggestion was best."

"I see." Youji swallowed, then lapsed into silence, turning things over in his mind.

He'd been trapped, and been rescued by Aya, apparently a junior partner who'd surpassed him. He'd been working with the Takatori family, and had wanted to resign. He wondered why. Stress? Had he been in over his head somehow? Or perhaps...if Aya had been a junior partner who had surpassed him, had he wanted to escape the situation?

He chose his next words with care. "If I may ask...what was my job, with you?"

"You helped my father raise me. But aside from that...I can't tell you." Youji started to protest, but Mamoru shook his head. "You worked in a high-security position. Some of the work you did was government work, classified. And some of it was very sensitive work for the company. These are things that even I am not permitted to tell you."

Youji bit the inside of his cheek. Government work. Sensitive projects.

He liked being normal. Working his day-to-day business job, learning the ropes as a junior associate at his firm. Going home to his wife, eating meals. Doing garden work or house work on his days off, helping with chores. The thought of doing the kind of work that he couldn't even talk about, that someone as powerful as the heir of the Takatori family couldn't talk about it...he had a feeling his resignation had been a result of stress. In which case, he was rather glad that Aya had convinced the Takatori's to let him go.

Something chimed. Mamoru pulled out a cell phone and glanced at the display, and a rueful look crossed his face. "I wish I could spend more time with you and Aya, Youji-san, but I'm afraid I have business to attend to."

"I understand. Thank you, for answering my questions." Youji dipped his head in a respectful bow. Mamoru smiled and returned the nod, then slipped out the door, shutting it behind him.

Youji stood a moment, then pulled a chair up to the bedside and settled into it, staring absently at Aya's face. His mind was turning over the information Mamoru Takatori had given him, trying to see if any of it seemed familiar.

He had served the Takatori family. He knew several of his co-workers would have envied him that position, and thought him insane for resigning. But he wondered what kind of position he could have served, to require such a high degree of secrecy. At the very least, he had apparently been tasked with guarding the heir to the Takatori family. That implied he'd worked as some sort of bodyguard. He studied his hands, trying to imagine himself with a weapon.

The thought felt oddly familiar, and uncomfortable. He couldn't really see himself with a gun, but then, he hadn't picked one up since he'd left the hospital. In fact, he didn't like them. They evoked a sense of unease for him, like the knife he'd taken from Aya's possessions. He'd always thought it was because he was a pacifist. However...what if it had been because he'd been a fighter, a bodyguard or elite soldier of some kind, and had simply gotten sick of the bloodshed? He'd heard of such things happening, and the thought didn't feel wrong.

He turned his gaze to the slender man on the bed. Had Aya gotten tired of violence as well? But then...why had he been carrying a knife, particularly a long blade? Or was it...Youji shook the thought away before his mind could become too negative.

Disquieting as it was, he had to admit the information made sense of a number of things that had puzzled him before. He'd never understood how he had come to be so injured. Or why and how anyone would pay for his hospital stay and therapy. Both were expensive, and of course, he hadn't been able to tell if he had any sort of insurance or money. But the Takatori family could easily afford to pay their retainers top salaries, and a specialized guard or work crew would have commanded a hefty paycheck. Even if all they'd done was take the money out of his account and paycheck, it probably would have paid for it. And if the numbers in Aya's phone were an indication of the kind of money he'd made, then he'd had plenty to cover a long hospital stay.

He'd also received a fairly hefty sum when he'd been discharged. He'd been told it was a gift, from a friend. He'd wondered who would be so generous to a nameless man, and why they hadn't come forward to speak with him. Now he wondered whether the gift had been a gift from Aya, or his parting payment from the Takatori family.

He'd frequently felt he was being looked out for, in some way. He'd never understood why. But he'd also had to work hard and prove himself, so he'd never felt he was getting an unfair advantage. So he'd resigned himself to praying at a small shrine every so often as thanks for the luck, and making sure he made the most of what he received.

The beeping of the monitors was a comforting counterpoint to his thoughts. A glance at them revealed that Aya's breathing and heart-rate were slow but even, and steady. He was no medic, but he'd watched his own monitors enough times, and seen enough of them while visiting his wife, to know that the readings were all relatively normal for someone who was in a deep sleep, or unconscious. Neither state was at all unreasonable, given the state he'd found the man in. He sighed and returned his gaze to the man's face.

It was frustrating. So many secrets, so many things he wanted to know, all hidden behind that serene, sleeping countenance. He'd gotten used to not knowing anything about his life, to making the most of what he did know, but now he felt restless, curious. He wanted to know what kind of relationship he'd had with Aya, if the other man knew why he'd wanted to quit. Wanted to know what had made those lines and furrows on Aya's brow. Mamoru Takatori had said Aya had lost a close friend, or more than one, in the explosion that had taken his memory. He wanted to know if they'd been his friends too.

A sharp rapping sound from the doorway interrupted his thoughts. He looked up.

A young man stood in the doorway. He, like Mamoru Takatori, had brown eyes and brown hair, and a youthful face of a man in his twenties or so, but there the resemblance ended. Takatori's hair had been cut short and neat, as befit a high ranking executive. This man's hair was long and loose, combed just enough to tame it. Mamoru's posture had been straight, formal, his clothes high quality business wear. This man slouched against the door frame, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and worn boots. A pair of sunglasses was tucked in his collar, a pair of fingerless biking gloves adorned his hands.

The young man smiled at him. "Hey Youji! Sorry. Hope I'm not intruding. How's Aya?"

Youji stared at him, nonplussed. "I...He's...stable, I think. But...I'm sorry, but I...I'm afraid I don't know you."

The young man grimaced. "Ah...that's right. He told me that you'd lost your memory." He offered a sheepish grin, then moved forward until he could extend a hand to shake. "Hidaka Ken. I'm a friend of Aya's." The smile widened a bit. "Just call me Ken."

"Itou Youji." Youji shook his hand. The young man had a surprisingly strong grip. "And Youji is fine."

Ken nodded. "Itou Youji. I like it." He turned to look at the man sleeping on the bed and the amusement left his face. "Do you know what happened to him?"

Youji shook his head. "I'm not sure. But it looks like he was stabbed in the gut, just below the rib cage. It was a bad wound. It nicked his organs, and a blood vessel. I happened to find him, after he collapsed next to a mail box. He lost a lot of blood, and he was suffering from hypothermia. I called an ambulance to bring him here for treatment, and he's been unconscious since then."

Ken grimaced. "Stabbed in the gut. I wonder how anyone managed to get close enough to him for that. Aya's usually pretty cautious." He sighed, then sagged into the chair. "Damn it Aya...why didn't you tell me? Why'd you try to go on, all by yourself? Did you still...think it was necessary?"

Youji blinked at the sadness in the young man's face. "Go...on?"

Ken scowled. "Aya...he did a lot of work, rooting out corruption and conspiracies in various governments and all. We used to be on a team together, but after our last assignment, I got out of there. Aya helped me out, and I thought he was getting out too. But...if he's like this...he probably didn't."

"I...I have some things of his." Youji pulled out his briefcase and opened it. "He had these things with him."

Ken's mouth tightened at the sight of the knife. He picked up Aya's cell phone, scrolling through the log as Youji had done, and his jaw clenched. "Aya...what the hell were you thinking?" He snapped the phone shut and slouched in the chair. "Getting into a situation like that by yourself..." He looked angry, frightened and hurt all at once, and there was grief in his eyes. "You should have called me."

Youji shifted, uncomfortable at witnessing such emotion. He swallowed. "Ummm...I talked to someone...he told me that I worked with you. For the Takatori family."

Ken blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. O...Mamoru called and told me he'd spoken to you." He sighed, then relaxed a bit more. "We were on the same team for a few years."

"Did we all...do the kind of work you were talking about?"

Ken grimaced. "Mostly. But Aya always got the really hard assignments. He was always looking out for us too. He and I are about the same age and all, but he always seemed so much more mature than I was. And even after that last...he was the one to make sure I was in a safe place until I got my head on straight. Him and Mamoru."

Youji nodded. "I think I understand. They paid for my hospital treatment."

Ken's eyes went back to the still figure on the bed. "I think Mamoru's covering Aya's, until he wakes up at least." He sighed. "I can't..." A pained look crossed his face, and he reached out to take one of the stricken man's hands in his own. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Aya. But I won't leave until you're well. I promise." He bowed his head.

Youji watched the young man for a moment, then left the room. He had some calls to make.

_**Author's Note: **Things are starting to come together for Youji, and for the group. But what happens when Aya awakens?_


	4. Chapter 4: Ravaged Knight

**Chapter ****Four: ****Ravaged ****Knight**

The calls took less than an hour. He explained politely to his boss that he had discovered a friend in critical condition in a hospital and needed time off. His boss was sympathetic, especially after he admitted that the man in question was someone he'd known before his accident, as well as being his original benefactor. He was given two weeks leave, as long as he promised to provide updates to the situation. He'd had a few plans for the upcoming week but, like his employer, everyone understood when he explained why he had to cancel them. After he finished he got a drink from the vending machine and went to find his wife.

He found her in the break room, sipping a cup of tea. "Youji!"

"Asuka." He bent to give her a quick kiss, then settled down in the chair next to her. "I've taken some time off work. I want to stay with that man, Aya Fujimia, at least until he wakes." He sighed. "I still don't know much about him, and I still can't remember him, but..."

"But you want to be there. I understand." Asuka took another sip of tea. "I looked in earlier. Who was the man you were talking to? The younger man in the suit. He looked familiar, but I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him."

Youji sighed. "That was Takatori Mamoru." Asuka's gasp indicated she knew the name. "He's paying for Fujimiya's care, I think." He paused, but he'd never hidden anything from his wife and he wasn't going to start now. "He knew me, Asuka. He knew who I was. Apparently, I used to work for his father." He sighed. "Actually, he said I used to work for him too. My accident...it was my last job before I resigned. And Aya was my partner. That's why he brought me here. My treatment, the money I was given when I left here...all of it was from the Takatori family, for the work I did."

"I always wondered. I knew that Fujimiya had made arrangements for you, but a hospital bill like that seemed very steep for one man to cover. I thought he might have connections." She sipped at her tea again. "The Takatoris...that's a powerful family. Did he tell you what you did?"

"No. Apparently it was a high profile job. Classified stuff. The only thing I know is that I was a bodyguard of some sort, apparently. And that I was planning resign because of the stress." The words didn't feel right somehow, as if he'd misinterpreted something, but he didn't know why.

"Well, if it was classified..." She shrugged. "It's good that you've decided to stay with him." She smiled. "I love you, and I've always worried about the fact that you never remembered anything. It would be nice not to wonder if there are any friends or family I should contact, or if someone's looking for you."

Youji nodded. "I'll ask. Maybe they can tell me if I have any parents, friends or family." He finished his drink. "Come and see me when you get off work? We can go get some dinner."

"That sounds good." She kissed his cheek, finished her tea, and took his can and her cup to the recycling bin. "I've got to get back to my rounds. I'll see you later, Youji."

"Later." He turned and went back to Aya's room.

Ken was still there, sprawled in a chair by Aya's head, eyes on the pale face. Youji took the seat across from him. "How is he?"

"Hasn't moved much." Ken's voice was quiet. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I just went to call in to my office. I took some time off work so I could help watch over him." He glanced at the monitors above Aya's head.

A smile warmed Ken's face. "That's good. It's good for Aya to have people to look out for him. He doesn't..." The smile fell from his expression. "He doesn't get enough of that. He's always...always looking out for everyone..." The young man's hand curled into a fist. "Damn it, Aya..." He sighed, then leaned his head against the bed. "You damn stubborn fool. We would have looked out for you, if you'd just let us..." He sighed again, then sat up. "Sorry. It's just...I worried about him while I was away, but I didn't think the situation would get this bad."

"I...understand." He didn't, not really. He had no idea what Aya had been doing. More bodyguard work? Classified government work? It was the kind of thing that might make a man enemies, that could lead to getting stabbed. And it would explain the knife he'd been carrying.

He decided to change the subject. "May I ask you some things?"

"Sure. Go ahead." Ken's gaze flicked to Aya, then back to him. "You've probably got lots of questions, since you don't remember anything."

"Yes, actually. My wife, Asuka, she asked if you could tell me whether or not I had friends or family that I should contact." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I...if I was married or something..."

"Nah. Nothing like that. You weren't the marrying kind, not when we worked together." Ken leaned forward to set his arms on his knees. "Aya told me there was a girl, before you joined up with us. Police girl. But she got killed in the line of duty, and I don't think you were ever serious about anyone after that." Ken grinned. "Funny enough, her name was Asuka too."

"Oh." Youji blushed. "And I...no children?"

"None that I ever heard of." Ken shook his head. "You were a bit of a ladies man when I knew you, but careful, you know? And it was usually a one night hook up kind of thing, just to relax."

"Oh. I see." He couldn't imagine it now. Asuka was all he needed, all he wanted. "Any other family?"

"None that you ever talked about. But with the work we did...most guys in the business don't have families. If you had any siblings or living relatives, you never mentioned them." He shrugged.

"I see. That's...comforting, I suppose." It felt odd to be certain that he was alone in the world. But at least now he knew that he hadn't left anyone behind to worry over him.

On the bed, Aya shifted. His heartbeat went up suddenly, tension drawing his mouth tight. One hand half curled, as if to form a fist.

Ken sat bolt upright, leaning over the bed. Aya's head shifted on the pillow, heart-rate climbing higher, pain seeping into the formerly serene expression. A single word escaped his lips, a dry whisper that made Ken freeze in place, expression twisting in pain.

"What is it?" Youji leaned forward a bit.

"He's dreaming about Sena." Ken's hand clenched around the bed-rail, pressure turning the knuckles white. "Aya...come on Aya, snap out of it. You know the kid...he didn't blame you...it wasn't your fault Aya!" He laid a hand on Aya's forehead. "Come on, listen to me. It wasn't your fault. Sena would never blame you. You tried..."

A minute shudder raced through the fallen man's frame. Then Aya quieted. Some of the tension smoothed from his face, and his heart-rate quieted. Ken sat back with a sigh.

Youiji watched in concern. "I'm sorry but...Sena?"

"He was a kid, living with Aya before our last job. Only about 15 or so. Bright kid, pretty athletic, had interests in martial arts and history and computers. Aya was his guardian. And his teacher. Aya did part time teaching for a while at this private school as a history teacher, and Sena was in his class. The two of them were close. Sena...he kind of looked up to Aya, like an older brother. And Aya really tried to do right by him." He sighed.

"I...can I ask...what happened?"

Ken grimaced, eyes fastened on his friend's face. "Sena...he was with Aya because his Mom was a chemical scientist. She...well, we think she got exposed to some weird mess in her labs, had a psychotic effect. She killed his dad and brother and disappeared."

Youji felt his throat tighten. "That's horrible."

"Yeah well, she turned up while Sena was with Aya. We thought she might be better, or at least Sena did. Poor kid wanted it to be true so badly. Aya...he wasn't sure. He wanted Sena to keep his distance until he could look into some things. And it turned out...Aya was right. She was completely crazy. She invited Sena to visit her at work, then attacked the kid. I didn't see the actual injury, but Aya said it was bad. And it was fatal." he heaved a long, slow breath. "Aya got there in time to see Sena collapse. Not in time to save him. Or to stop the mother from committing suicide. He took it hard."

Youji swallowed hard, but there was a lump stuck in his throat that wouldn't budge. "That...sounds terrible."

Ken nodded. "It was a bad time for him. Two of his students committed suicide a few months before that, and one got assaulted. And there was a teacher that...well, it looked like he might get serious about her, then one of his students went nuts, OD'd on something, and attacked her. Fatal injury. And he'd only left her with the kid for a few minutes to go call somebody." Ken shook his head. "I was there, me and a couple of other work buddies of his. Aya was just..." He trailed off, eyes sad, hands clenched together. "It'd be easier if he'd just fall apart, you know? But he doesn't, or at least he didn't when I worked with him. He just...draws deeper and deeper inside himself, falls into some place in his head where it's impossible to reach him, impossible to help him."

Ken's eyes fixed on the pale face, surrounded by the deep auburn hair. "Sometimes...I feel like I'm watching him drown, like I've been watching him drown ever since I met him. But if I try to help him, he'll just push me to safety and keep sinking..."

_Drowning, __drowning __in __pain. __Falling __into __darkness._ Something about it was familiar, like something he'd felt or seen in a dream. Youji swallowed hard. "That...I can't imagine that."

Ken looked at him. "I wish I couldn't." He shook his head. "After our last job, the disaster...I thought I was gonna drown. And Aya...he pulled me back. Helped me find a place I could put things back together. If I'd known then that he was going to keep sinking, I'd have made sure that someone took care of him. Even if I had to ask Mamoru to lock us both away."

Youji blinked. "Lock..."

Ken smiled, though it held no humor. "I just...I wanted out, someplace where I didn't have to think, didn't have to care, didn't have to do anything. Mamoru stuck me in jail. Not sure how he did that, but it was...kinda peaceful actually. Food, clothes, everything I needed was provided. I wanted peace and quiet, I could get myself sent to isolation. I needed people, I could join general population. I got to teach the prisoners soccer, real soccer, while I was in there. It was fun. No responsibilities. No worries. Nothing to think about except just...existing. I wish Aya'd gone with me."

Put that way, it did sound pleasant. In fact, it sounded a lot like Youji's life with Asuka. Casual, easy. Simple.

Aya's breath hitched. The monitors went off again, heart-rate rising, respiration becoming fast and uneven, hands curling into fists. Face paling to ghostly white as he shuddered and flinched in the bed. Ken caught his shoulders as he started to shake. "Aya! Aya, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay. Come on, snap out of it Aya." He swallowed hard. "Come on, Ran. Wake up already. Talk to me."

Aya didn't respond, trembling against his friend's hands. After a moment, he subsided once more, falling back in unconsciousness as whatever horror he endured passed. Ken sat back down with a groan. "Damn it...nightmares too...Aya..." He rubbed his face with one hand.

Youji watched the two of them, trying to think of something. He thought back to the things he'd seen Asuka do for troubled patients. "Is there something that might...is there any way to remind him of pleasant memories?"

Ken frowned. "Aya hasn't got many of those." He sat for a moment, then flicked open his phone and dialed. Youji heard the distant click of the line connecting. "Heya. I'm at the hospital with Youji. Must have just missed you. Are you coming back?" He frowned. "Okay. Can you do me a favor, for Aya? Youji had an idea. He said to find things that remind Aya of happy times. I was thinking...the shop...Aya liked it there, didn't he? I mean, there and the construction yard."

An indistinct babble on the other end of the line. "Yeah. Carnations would be good. I don't think roses are a good idea, not since..." He broke off. "Carnations, geraniums, that stuff. Maybe a small fern? He liked ferns. I can water them to keep that fresh scent in the air." Another crackle across the line. "Not too many, we don't want to get in the staff's way. Half a dozen or so, maybe?" Relief washed over his face. "Thanks. That would be great. Stop by whenever you've got the time, okay? It's been too long since we just sat and talked and shared a drink." He paused, then smiled softly. "Yeah. Thanks again. Later." He clicked the phone off. "Okay." He looked at Aya's face. "Mamoru's going to send over some flowers for us."

"Flowers?" Youji considered the still form.

"When we were starting out...we didn't work full time. Not the heavy stuff, anyway. In between, we worked at this little flower shop. The House of Kittens. Aya was good at it. He really seemed to relax when he was there. It was as close to peace as he ever got when I knew him."

Gardening. He had always liked gardening, living with Asuka. Youji looked down at his hands. He'd never thought of it. Perhaps he'd enjoyed working at the flower shop too.

Another thought caught his attention. "Mamoru? You mean...Takatori-san?"

Ken actually laughed. "That's him. He's grown up a lot recently."

"He seems very fond of Aya-san."

The laugh tapered off, sobering into sad nostalgia. "There was a time, years ago, when Aya's opinion meant more to that kid than anything else in the world. He'd have disowned his whole family at one world from Aya's mouth." Ken shook his head. "But Aya never asked him. Not even after he found out..." He trailed off.

Youji waited a moment, then prodded gently. "Found out...?"

"Found out that Mamoru's uncle was the one responsible for the death of his parents, and putting his twin sister in the hospital. We all thought for sure he was gonna lose it. But as mad as he was, he never blamed the kid."

He'd heard rumors about some of the Takatori family. He'd never paid them any mind. Youji bit his lip, wondering if he dared ask.

There was a blip as the heart rate monitor began to climb again. This time, Youji mirrored Ken as the young man reached out and took Aya's hand. "You're safe. You're safe. It's all right." Aya's hand clenched briefly on his, then he relaxed.

Youji settled back in his chair, glancing at the clock. "So many nightmares..."

"He's seen too much." Ken's eyes were sad. "Aya...he's just seen too much. He's been working since he was 16 years old. Working, fighting, getting into things that no one ought to see that much of. Most guys get out when they can, or it just...tears them apart. Aya...he never lost his principles, never lost his way. But I think...I think it's destroyed him in a different way."

"I see." Youji frowned. "I know I intended to resign. Did I...?"

Ken glanced at him, then back at Aya. "A little. You had a bad time of it, near the end. But Aya got you together again, helped you out when you started losing it." Ke'n's shoulders slumped, something helpless and sad in his face. "Aya...he was always there to keep us grounded, no matter what happened."

"I see." Youji swallowed back the next question he had. With everything he'd heard, he wasn't sure he wanted to know any more.

So much pain, so much grief. Was this what his life had been like before the accident that had claimed his memory? What had he been doing, that the man lying before him had needed to keep him grounded, keep him sane?

He shook the thought away. It wasn't important. He looked down at the pale face, framed by the dark red hair. No, what was important was that, once upon a time, this man had helped him, cared for him, and now he was hurt, in need of help himself.

What was important was figuring out what he needed to do, to return the kindness that Aya Fujimiya had once showed him.

**_Author's Note: _**_A little more of the past revealed..._

_Questions? Comments? Thoughts?_


End file.
